SIGRIST:

Good afternoon. This is Paul Sigrist for the National Park Service. Today is Wednesday, June 8, 1994. I'm at the Ellis Island Recording Studio with Antonina Iozzia. Mrs. Iozzia came from Sicily in 1916 when she was twelve years old, and she was detained for two nights here at Ellis Island. Anyway, welcome. Mrs. Iozzia, can you give me your birth date, please?

IOZZIA:

September 30, 1903.

SIGRIST:

And can you tell me where you were born in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

Santa Croce Camerina.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell that, please?

IOZZIA:

S-A-T-A-C-R-E [sic].

SIGRIST:

Where in Sicily is that?

IOZZIA:

Provincia Ragusa.

SIGRIST:

And what part, which end of Sicily?

IOZZIA:

(?). All the way down the boot. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

So way down at the bottom of Sicily.

IOZZIA:

The bottom, yes. All the way down.

SIGRIST:

Can you describe for me a little bit what the town looked like when you were a little girl?

IOZZIA:

A small town. It was a very small town. I went back, it look different now.

SIGRIST:

Well, what did it, what did it, how do you remember the town from when you were a child?

IOZZIA:

Well, I - I grown up over there till twelve years old.

SIGRIST:

You lived in the same town for twelve years.

IOZZIA:

Oh, yes, yes.

SIGRIST:

Can you describe for me the house that you lived in?

IOZZIA:

Small house, small house, all attached together. So I lived on one of those streets, you know, near the church area, near the church.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember the name of the church?

IOZZIA:

Yes. Uh, Chiesa Madre, Ma—Ma-- Chiesa Madre -- Chiesa Madre

SIGRIST:

And that was the church that you attended?

IOZZIA:

Yeah. It's still there, the same thing.

SIGRIST:

Still there. What was the house made out of? Do you know?

IOZZIA:

Stone.

SIGRIST:

Stone. Were all the houses made of stone at that time?

IOZZIA:

Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.

SIGRIST:

And what kind of roof did it have on it?

IOZZIA:

The roof was a -- the roof, you mean?

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

IOZZIA:

Like a, the clay, you know the clay?

SIGRIST:

Like tiles on the roof of clay?

IOZZIA:

Yeah. The top - On the top of the - the house. That's where they was.

SIGRIST:

How many rooms did the house have?

IOZZIA:

Three rooms, my house was. The big room, two rooms. The big room, and then a small room. That's it. That's what it was, my house.

SIGRIST:

Was there a kitchen in the house?

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

Where did . . .

IOZZIA:

We used to cook, across the street we had another house. My house wasn't like that. Today they're different now, but 1916 no.

SIGRIST:

So you actually did your cooking in a separate building?

IOZZIA:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

And, um, was there a stove in that separate building?

IOZZIA:

Yeah. We had the oven to make the bread, and I guess something like when you cook - when you cook in a mount-- someplace, like that . . .

SIGRIST:

Like a grill of some sort, or . . .

IOZZIA:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

SIGRIST:

What kinds of foods did you eat in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

Well, lot of green.

SIGRIST:

What kinds of greens?

IOZZIA:

Green, everything. Broccoli, cauliflower. They grow everything, beans if it's wintertime, everything. Everything on - on a - they grow, the wheat - the wheat to make a, that's what they used to grow over there.

SIGRIST:

Now, did you have your own garden?

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

Or did you buy these things?

IOZZIA:

These thing we had to buy. But everybody has their own --, we didn't have any. I didn't have, because my father died, so we don't have any. But that's the way it was. Everybody have their own, like farm, no in a town. Next to each other we didn't have nothing in the -- in a town. We didn't have like over here backyards We don't have it, no, no. Just, uh, just three, the sidewalk and, uh, in the house, all close together. No backyard. So we didn't have no nothing in the town to grow things. If we want to grow something they used to put them in the window, in a windowsill, just in a ceramic pot. That's it.

SIGRIST:

So all the farming was actually done outside.

IOZZIA:

Out - out - out of town, out of town.

SIGRIST:

Was that the major industry in this town?

IOZZIA:

No industry at all.

SIGRIST:

There was no industry.

IOZZIA:

No siree.

SIGRIST:

So what did people do to make a living?

IOZZIA:

That's my, my mother says, "I can't make a go over here. Where you gonna go? What you gonna do?" That's what she says, decides to come to America.

SIGRIST:

Well, let's, um, you said that your father died. What was your father's name?

IOZZIA:

Salvatore.

SIGRIST:

Tell me a little bit about his family background. What did his parents do for a living?

IOZZIA:

He was - he was orphan, too. My father - the father -- his father die when he was four years old, too. So I remember my grandmother, that's all, his mother. But I don't know my father. I don't remember my father at all.

SIGRIST:

You have no memories of . . .

IOZZIA:

My father, no.

SIGRIST:

You were four when he died.

IOZZIA:

I was four years old.

SIGRIST:

Um, do you know if he was from that town, or . . .

IOZZIA:

From the same town.

SIGRIST:

He was from that town.

IOZZIA:

In fact, from the same street where I grew up. I live here, my grandmother live here. My mother, my father's mother.

SIGRIST:

What do you remember about your grandmother?

IOZZIA:

Oh, my grandmother, I grew up. I was twelve years when I come over here. So I know my grandmother, I left my grandmother live yet.

SIGRIST:

What sorts of things stick out in your mind about your grandmother when you think back to her in Sicily? What was her personality like?

IOZZIA:

What can I say? I don't know.

SIGRIST:

What did she look like?

IOZZIA:

Oh, my grandmother, a nice woman, she was, a nice-looking woman. Tall. I mean, we used to - we used to talk to grandmother, and like it was to say, "Grandma, how come, perche, perche io chiama Nina - Antonina?" [why is my name Nina?] She's -- her name was Margaret, Margarita. "Why," that's why I used to talk to my grandmother. Margarita, I used to like, but my name was Antonina. "Well, the other grandmother was Antonina, they put you, she was dead, you know." When grew - when I born, I was - my gran-- the other grandmother was dead. So they put my other grandmother dead, my name, that's it. But we used to like, her name Margarita, Margarita.

SIGRIST:

So you're named after your mother's mother.

IOZZIA:

My mother's name, you're right. Because over there, first the father name, the mother. But the other grandmother was dead, and they put me Antonina.

SIGRIST:

Was there, um, was there something that you enjoyed doing with your grandmother, some activity that you shared with her, like maybe cooking or sewing?

IOZZIA:

Oh yeah, we used to - we used to go, my grandma, all the time, I used to go. We used to live on the same street, yeah. We used to go in and out, you know, but I used to live on the same street.

SIGRIST:

So you saw her a lot.

IOZZIA:

Oh, I see her. Oh, yeah, yeah.

SIGRIST:

What was your mother's name?

IOZZIA:

Bartola.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell that?

IOZZIA:

B-A-R-T-L-A. Bartola.

SIGRIST:

And what was her name before she was married, her maiden name?

IOZZIA:

Now, you'll see her name was the same.

SIGRIST:

Can you say that for us on tape?

IOZZIA:

It's --that's the same. Oh, oh, oh. I-O-Z-Z-I-A.

SIGRIST:

And what was her name before she was married? It was that name. Oh, when your father died, did she . . .

IOZZIA:

She married Libria.

SIGRIST:

Librio?

IOZZIA:

My mother, she married Libria.

SIGRIST:

So your mother's name in Sicily, her full name was Bartola Iozzia.

IOZZIA:

Iozzia.

SIGRIST:

Iozzia. I see.

IOZZIA:

That's my mother. That's enough. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

And before she married, her name was Bartola Libria.

IOZZIA:

No, no. It was Iozzia. Now you mix up.

SIGRIST:

Now I'm mixed up.

IOZZIA:

Now, I don't know if I can explain it.

SIGRIST:

Well, explain it to me. How . . .

IOZZIA:

Me and my husband, we relative. Okay? That's it. That' why I end up, I am Iozzia like my mother.

SIGRIST:

I see. Okay. Well, that explains it then.

IOZZIA:

Okay. I mean . . . A little mixed up, but because we're relative.

SIGRIST:

I see. Can you tell me a little bit about what your mother's personality was like? What was her character like? What . . .

IOZZIA:

Well, my mother, she was a very sad woman. Because she was a widow when she was thirty-two years old, and she had to grow up two kids, four years old and nine months old.

SIGRIST:

So she just had a baby when . . .

IOZZIA:

Baby when my father died.

SIGRIST:

When your father died. What was the name of the baby?

IOZZIA:

Joanina. She came from the other side. She died sixteen, sixteen years old, when she was over here.

SIGRIST:

Oh. Well, we'll talk about that later on then.

IOZZIA:

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

SIGRIST:

So your mother was a very sad person, you said.

IOZZIA:

To me, because I don't know what happened to her. What do I know? She - she -- kind of because my father die, you know. When you're small, you don't know.

SIGRIST:

Can you tell me some of, um, some of the things that she had to do around the house? Like what were some of her chores in the house, like how did she do the laundry?

IOZZIA:

Oh, in a washtub. That's the way. Cold water. When I came from the other side. Over here, you mean?

SIGRIST:

No, I mean in Sicily.

IOZZIA:

Oh, no, no, they . . .

SIGRIST:

How did she do the laundry in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

Wait a minute. They used to go to the, to the, what was I going to say now? They used to --big fontana, in Italiana you say . . .

SIGRIST:

The fountain.

IOZZIA:

La Fontana. Like the water go through like - like a river. Over there, everybody used to go and wash over there. They used to have like a washtub -- over here -- one here -together, all together.. The people used to go in the water inside of the - the river and wash the clothes. And then they used to boil the clothes, boil, because, you know -- no because you used to wash it with soap and water. They used to boil the water, and they used to, how I'm gonna say? I - I never did it, my mother did it, but (?). That's it.

SIGRIST:

It was a lot of work.

IOZZIA:

Oh, a lot of work, sure.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember what kinds of clothes you wore when you lived in Sicily? What did they look like?

IOZZIA:

Nice, nice. My mother, she used - used to make - make nice clothes -- for that time, you know.

SIGRIST:

Is there a dress that sticks out in your mind that you had as a little girl that you remember very well?

IOZZIA:

Well, when I came over here, I came with the dress. Somebody say to me the ayo [ph], you know, the (ayo?), the (ayo?). The (?). One of my aunt lived over here, and she sent the (ayo?), by the yard. So my mother, she make a dress over there, and when I came over here I got white dress, white (ayo?) dress, with the pink ribbon. that's the way I always dressed, me and my sister, both the same.

SIGRIST:

And that would have been very fashionable for 1916.

IOZZIA:

Well, for 1916 we were dressing nice. Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Uh, tell me a little bit, you said you lived near a church. Tell me a little bit about what religious life was like in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

Well, Catho—Catho-- Catholic.

SIGRIST:

Catholic. How often did you go to church?

IOZZIA:

Every day, two time a day. Night, morning. ( she laughs ) Twelve years old, I wanted to be a nun.

SIGRIST:

Why did you want to be a nun?

IOZZIA:

I used to go to church all the time. So I say to my mother, I says, "Mom, I'm gonna be a nun when I grow up." (?) ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

Do you remember a prayer in Italian? Can you say for me on tape a prayer, like the Lord's Prayer or something in Italian.

IOZZIA:

Padre Nostre che sia nei cieli sia santificato il nome tuo venga noi il vostro regno sia fatta a vostra volonta` come in cielo cosi intera dacci oggi il nostro pane quotidiano / rimetti i nostri peccati i nostril debitori e non ci indurre in tentazione ma liberci da mia male e That's the Our Father. That's the Our Father.

SIGRIST:

Thank you, thank you.

IOZZIA:

Actually, I could go to church, too. I come over here, I don't go to church any more. I work.

SIGRIST:

Things were different when you got here.

IOZZIA:

I work over here.

SIGRIST:

Tell me a little bit about, you grew up with a small sister in the house. Yes, you had a little sister.

IOZZIA:

Yeah. Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Tell me, um, what was your relationship like with your little sister when you were kids?

IOZZIA:

Well . . .

SIGRIST:

Was it good? Did you like having a little sister around?

IOZZIA:

Oh, no, no, no. ( she laughs ) We used to fight once in a while. She used to talk in English good, and me I used to talk broken English, and she used to make fun of me. We used to fight. Because she - she we—she went to church, she went to school. I didn't go to school. I went to work.

SIGRIST:

Now, what about in Italy, in Sicily. Did you get to go to school while you were there, too?

IOZZIA:

In school, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Describe for me what school was like in Sicily.

IOZZIA:

Oh, nice. I did the fourth grade.

SIGRIST:

Was there a separate school building that you went to?

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah, separate. Now they got, when I went to school, it was the one over here, another - another one - another down in the street, you know. All school. Because we used to be all - all girl, boy separate and the girl separate, we used to be.

SIGRIST:

Now, was the school run by the church?

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

So you weren't taught by nuns, or . . .

IOZZIA:

No, no, no, no. The city, the city.

SIGRIST:

Was your mother able to read and write?

IOZZIA:

No. She didn't go to school.

SIGRIST:

Was that common for women at that time?

IOZZIA:

When the school came to - to -- to the town, my mother, she was the age to go to school, but the mother, they don't send. All the girl stay home, the boy they send to school. All the boy they send to school, but no girls at that time when my mother grew up. But when I grew up, everybody would go to school.

SIGRIST:

It was a very different way of thinking at that time.

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Well, tell me a little bit about why your mother wanted to come to America?

IOZZIA:

Because she was a widow. My father die. She had a brother over here that wanted her came when my sister was a baby. But at that time no bottle - the bottle of milk for the baby. They used to nurse, the mother. So my mother says, "What am I gonna leave the six month old baby here?" Six, nine, whatever, nine months, you know, right after my father die? I'm supposed to leave my mother over there, and bring the baby over here, because she had to feed the baby herself. My mother said, "No, I can't do this. I stay here. When we die, we die together." But then I grew up, I was twelve and my sis— . And I say this is time now to go. That's how we came.

SIGRIST:

Your father died, let's see, you were four.

IOZZIA:

1908.

SIGRIST:

He died in 1908. Um, wasn't there a big earthquake or something in Sicily in 1908?

IOZZIA:

Yes, in Messina.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember any of that?

IOZZIA:

I remember—I remember. No by us, see, we lived a little far from Messina. But one I can say I remember the next day all the saint was on the street, all the stage . . .

SIGRIST:

The statues from?

IOZZIA:

Right. All the saint, they bring it out, Madonna, Jesus, like this. Four years old, what can you, what four years old, I was, uh, 19, wait a minute 1908.

SIGRIST:

Five years old, you were.

IOZZIA:

I was five years old.

SIGRIST:

Five, Yeah.

IOZZIA:

Then my mother, they give it the dre-- my dress was small for me, she give it, that's what I remember. And they put a big, uh, like a, a big, uh, costura [seam] I said. That's the way I could expect to be. And the guy explain the way these people, they die in Messina. They all die over there.

SIGRIST:

Yeah, it was a terrible disaster.

IOZZIA:

For distrutto complemente [complete destruction] in Messina, you know. So I came from the other side in 1916, we go through - through Messina, still the house is, still was, then I finish here.

SIGRIST:

They still hadn't even rebuilt the town.

IOZZIA:

That's in 1916.

SIGRIST:

Yep, eight years later.

IOZZIA:

So . . .

SIGRIST:

What was your mother's brother doing in America? Do you know what job he had here?

IOZZIA:

A shoemaker, he was.

SIGRIST:

Was he in New York City?

IOZZIA:

He was, no. He was in Patterson.

SIGRIST:

In Patterson, New Jersey.

IOZZIA:

Yeah, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Do you know when he had gone over to America?

IOZZIA:

He came over here, wait a minute now. My father die in 1908. My uncle was in America, and then they come, and they went back in 1910. This was my uncle, my mother's brother.

SIGRIST:

What was his name?

IOZZIA:

Like my mother, exactly the same. Bartolo Iozzia.

SIGRIST:

So he's Bartolo, and she's Bartola.

IOZZIA:

Bartola.

SIGRIST:

I see. ( he laughs ) It must have been a confusing household when the kids were little.

IOZZIA:

No. That's why it's a little confusing. But my mother and my husband now, now I'm Iozzia, which I was Librio, you know. But, now I'm married, I'm Iozzia, my husband, you know.

SIGRIST:

I see. Um, so your brother is in contact with your mother.

IOZZIA:

I dunno, no -- my Mom--.

SIGRIST:

I mean, her brother. Her brother is in contact with her in Sicily.

IOZZIA:

He wants my mother to come when I was, when my sister was nine months old, something like this.

SIGRIST:

Right, right.

IOZZIA:

When they --we came, I was twelve, and my sister was nine years old.

SIGRIST:

Well, after your father died, did your, how did your mother support you?

IOZZIA:

Yeah, tough.

SIGRIST:

Did she work? How did she do it?

IOZZIA:

She used to work in a bakery, like. She used to work in a bakery making bread. The sister used to have a bakery. They used to sell bread. She used to work with the sister.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember how your mother made bread? Can you describe the process of making bread for me on tape?

IOZZIA:

I do myself. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

Could you do it for us on tape, please? Just describe it.

IOZZIA:

I do bread. Since I have separate work, I do the bread.

SIGRIST:

What's the first thing you do when you make the bread, like how your mother did it?

IOZZIA:

Well, they used to sift it. I sift it myself over here, the flour. Over there they used to sift it, because it was three-way. Over here we got cleaner flour. Over there they used to do a, like a, the first one was dark, you know, the dark . . .

SIGRIST:

Like a dark wheat kind of a thing or something.

IOZZIA:

Si, -- you helpin' me. The second was a little white, and they, they used to use it. That -- that one they used to give it to the horse or to the chicken, the first one. The second they used to, and then the flour used to be white. But the first, the second and the third, we used to use it to make home made - home made pasta, homemade macaroni, and then used to make the bread. The last one, it was white. But there's all three -- they used to use all the time - the first one, they used to give it to the chicken and to the horse.

SIGRIST:

Just animal feed.

IOZZIA:

See, they used to feed good. Over here now they eat the seed. That kind of flour they eat over here. I don't want dark bread over here.

SIGRIST:

So after you get the flour that you need, then what happens?

IOZZIA:

Then we mix with yeast. You got to put fl-- you got to put, after they make a big hole over here. I used to put salt, oil, a little oil, some oil.

SIGRIST:

Olive oil?

IOZZIA:

Yeah, oh, sure.

SIGRIST:

That's all you had, probably.

IOZZIA:

That's all we had. And then they used to have the water, you know, mix. ( she laughs ) And then, and then they used to, over there they used to have, uh, how I'm going to explain to you, now? They used to have a big, big, not like this. Maybe from here to over there, even big. Like, with scythe, like this. And they used to mix the bread over here. That's, if it were to fl-- the flour would go away. And then they used to mix over there. Then from there they used to have, uh, like a big, uh, big, like a, bigger than this. Maybe like this. But wide than this. And they used to have a big, long stick.

SIGRIST:

Like a big paddle, kind of?

IOZZIA:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Uh-huh.

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah. They used to put it over here, and three people you need in there. One to, they used to like sit over here. Another one in the middle to help. The other one with the big stick, they used - they used to up and down, up and down. And the one over here, they had it full like this.

SIGRIST:

And it's heavy, because it's all heavy.

IOZZIA:

Three people, three people. One in the middle, one sit down, and one in the ch--. That's over there. Over here, I do it by myself.

SIGRIST:

Well, of course, in Sicily you're producing lots of bread to feed lots of people.

IOZZIA:

They do like this. They - they used to sell 'em.

SIGRIST:

Right, right.

IOZZIA:

See? But over here, I do it by hand, like. I used to do . . . Go ahead.

SIGRIST:

So that's how your mother supported her small children?

IOZZIA:

She supported me, yeah. She supported me and my sister until, once I come over here, to be better.

SIGRIST:

Did your mother want to come to America, or did she think that this was really her only option?

IOZZIA:

She don't know where she go. She don't know. She didn't even go from one town to another town.

SIGRIST:

She'd been in the same town her whole life.

IOZZIA:

All the time.

SIGRIST:

I mean . . .

IOZZIA:

If my father don't die, wouldn't die, maybe she would have stayed there, but who knows? Then my father was over here in 1905.

SIGRIST:

Oh, he had been to America, then?

IOZZIA:

My father, yeah. My father was over here.

SIGRIST:

Do you know what year your parents got married?

IOZZIA:

Well, I'm the fifth, I'm. I'm not the first daughter, I'm the fifth one.

SIGRIST:

You're the fifth child.

IOZZIA:

Sure. And my sister was the sixth, Nicolette.

SIGRIST:

Where are the other children?

IOZZIA:

They died.

SIGRIST:

They all died.

IOZZIA:

When there was a, she had three boys and three girls, my mother. First, I don't know with the first, I think the first was a boy, then it was a girl, but they all died at three years old.

SIGRIST:

What did they die of?

IOZZIA:

I don't know, see, at that time.

SIGRIST:

And your mother didn't talk about this, probably.

IOZZIA:

Well, she used to say she never have two kids, she never have two kids. She had two kids and my father died. Then she have two kids.

SIGRIST:

Then she had two kids.

IOZZIA:

A hard life.

SIGRIST:

Yeah, a very hard life. Well, what did you know about America when you were in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

Nothing.

SIGRIST:

I mean, when your mother said, "We're going to America . . ."

IOZZIA:

The sister was over here. Her sister was over here already, but we don't know nothing. I told her, we'll go to America. That's all. ( they laugh ) We don't know.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember what you packed to take with you? What did you take with you when you left Sicily?

IOZZIA:

We got a trunk, a trunk. My mother, she bring some linen, like. The most I remember, they bring oil. They think over here they didn't have any oil. And cheese. I remember, that's what I remember.

SIGRIST:

So your mother's packing food, then, to take with her.

IOZZIA:

The food? No, no, no.

SIGRIST:

Well, the cheese. I mean . . .

IOZZIA:

The cheese and the oil, we put them in the trunk. The food, what you say, my mother made like a cookie, like, like a biscotti like, you know. That was in the sack. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

So you had a big trunk, and then you had little things that you carried.

IOZZIA:

A valise, valise for the clothes to change during the trip. Oh, yeah. In a valise we have that.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember saying goodbye to your grandmother when you left?

IOZZIA:

Well, sure I remember. I used to cry. Everybody used to cry. We left the town eleven o'clock in the morning. And the street, all was run by us. That's what I mean. They all cry, everybody cry. You know, because we grew up together.

SIGRIST:

So it was sad leaving . . .

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah. Everybody cry, everybody, the relatives, and the neighbors, and the neighbors.

SIGRIST:

So, let's see. You're twelve, so your sister is four years younger than that, roughly. So she . . .

IOZZIA:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

Eight years old or seven, somewhere in there.

IOZZIA:

Yeah. Well, I'm, she's, she was, uh, October 16th.

SIGRIST:

I see, I see.

IOZZIA:

Her birthday. My birthday was September 30.

SIGRIST:

So when you left your town in Sicily, where did you go first?

IOZZIA:

Catania. First Donnafugata, Donnafugata you got the train to go to Catania. And then -- Catania, Messina. Messina was terramoto, was a earthquake - how you say? Then from Messina - then in Napoli.

SIGRIST:

And, um, from Messina to Naples, you would be on, like, are you on one of those railroad train, boats, that . . .

IOZZIA:

With the boat, the boat. From Messina, we were in a boat then, to go to, yeah.

SIGRIST:

How long did all that take before you got to Naples.

IOZZIA:

I don't know. What can I say?

SIGRIST:

Do you remember anything that sticks out in your mind about the trip to Naples? Did something make an impression on you when you were traveling to Naples?

IOZZIA:

I don't know. We wait for, one of my cousin was - was in the arm--, and we supposed to wait for him. And then the other soldier pass, coming from the beach to take a bath, all the soldiers. That was for me was something I never saw, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Of course, this is, World War One is going on at this point, yeah.

IOZZIA:

It was a war. There was a war in there, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Do you have any other recollections of the war before coming over here? What do you, what do you . . .

IOZZIA:

Over here, we were told, (?). When it was, uh, we don't know. We don't know nothing that time. So, there was a submarine. Submarine, they follow the ship.

SIGRIST:

This is when you're in the ship.

IOZZIA:

In the ship, because it was wartime. But we don't know. I don't know. My mother, she don't know. And then, all of a sudden, they says, you know, something going on, there was lot of - lot of noise. And they say we should have the life . . .

SIGRIST:

Life jackets.

IOZZIA:

That we should put it on. Then all of a sudden, I don't even know how to say in English. In Italian, si chi si vuol' salvar- si salva?. Who could s -- save us, save? Who gonna save? My mother, she grabbed us, all three, all three, my mother, my sister, we all - we all start cry. How am I save? Nobody could have saved at that time. I don't think so. The man says, "False alarm, false alarm." What false alarm? That was the one.

SIGRIST:

So that was a scary time being on the ship at that time.

IOZZIA:

Scary, very scary. My mother, she cried. She says, "God, make me reach to America. If I want to go back and never come back again." She was scare, a person who never go out from the town, she was scared.

SIGRIST:

Exactly. Your mother's world is very small.

IOZZIA:

She don't know.

SIGRIST:

She don't . . .

IOZZIA:

I don't know nothing either.

SIGRIST:

How long did you stay in Naples before you got on the ship?

IOZZIA:

Overnight.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember anything about staying overnight in Naples?

IOZZIA:

I threw up all over the - all over the balcony. It was so high, I never see high like this. Her house is all one floor, in the Sicily. No, no, no. Somebody had a balcony, but my house was one level. All the street was the same.

SIGRIST:

And Naples is a big city too.

IOZZIA:

Naple. I never see a big - big house like that. That's it. That's what I say. That's what I remember. I started to get sick in Naples.

SIGRIST:

Before you even got on the boat.

IOZZIA:

Even on the boat.

SIGRIST:

How much time, Peter? Two minutes. Um, what was the name of the ship?

IOZZIA:

Duca d'Aosta. I don't know if I can spell.

SIGRIST:

Duca d'Aosta.

IOZZIA:

D- Duca.

SIGRIST:

Duca. Like Duke.

IOZZIA:

Duke. like duca - with A.

SIGRIST:

But it's D-U-C-A. Yeah.

IOZZIA:

Duca d'Aosta. D.

SIGRIST:

D.

IOZZIA:

A, Aosta, A.

SIGRIST:

A.

IOZZIA:

S-S-T. Aosta. Duca d'Aosta.

SIGRIST:

And, um, was it a big ship?

IOZZIA:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Yeah?

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

All right. What we're going to do right now is we're going to pause just for a minute, and Peter's going to flip all the tapes over, and then we'll get you on the ship and we'll get you to America. ( Mrs. Iozzia laughs ) Okay. END OF SIDE ONE BEGINNING OF SIDE TWO

SIGRIST:

All right. We're now going to begin Side Two. Tell me what you thought when you saw the ship for the first time. Had you . . .

IOZZIA:

To me it was something, I never see it, you know.

SIGRIST:

Can you describe for me where you slept on the ship?

IOZZIA:

The first, third class. The first, second -- third. Third class, we was, you know.

SIGRIST:

What did it look like?

IOZZIA:

Oh, terrible. All, two, two floor, it was. I didn't see.

SIGRIST:

Like bunks?

IOZZIA:

Bunks. Me, my mother and my sister were each one. My mother was on the bottom, and us, we used to go on the top. That's in the ship.

SIGRIST:

But were men together with women?

IOZZIA:

No, no. All women in the boat.

SIGRIST:

And so the men were in a different part.

IOZZIA:

Different, yeah. But then in the morning we had to get out from the, because it was no - no air over there. We supposed to go up in the air. This way you feel better. I wasn't feel better up in the air. It was no good.

SIGRIST:

So you got sick . . .

IOZZIA:

I got sick, since I to--. Since I went to Naple, I go out on the balcony, and ooh, I throw up all the way down.

SIGRIST:

And you stayed sick all the way to America.

IOZZIA:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

What about your mom? Did she get sick?

IOZZIA:

My mom, she wasn't sick. My sister neither. Only me, when I was asleep on the floor.

SIGRIST:

Were lots of people sick?

IOZZIA:

Oh, plenty of people.

SIGRIST:

So it must have smelled bad downstairs, too.

IOZZIA:

Terrible, terrible.

SIGRIST:

Um, what do you remember about being up on deck of the ship? What could you see when you were up on deck?

IOZZIA:

Well, there was a - no, all the way outside. Inside, you know. But all the way outside there were lots of men used to go outside. They could take 'em. But me, I never went nowhere. I stayed there till the ship stop, and I stop vomit.

SIGRIST:

Did they try to give you everything to help your seasickness?

IOZZIA:

No. They give me baby's food. That's all they give to me. I didn't eat nothing heavy. My sister, she wants to buy a, she wants a pizza. My mother, she used to imagine I should throw up. Can you imagine that? I was real sick. I'll never forget it.

SIGRIST:

Now, you mentioned before that submarines were sighted . . .

IOZZIA:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

While you were on the ship.

IOZZIA:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

What else do you remember about traveling during wartime? Were you together with other ships, or were you by yourself?

IOZZIA:

No, no, no. Duca D'Aosta's all by themself. And then after that happened, you see -- you could see the way the water used to go, the sub, but we don't know when we went on a ship. But my mother knows this, she was smart enough. She won't come to America through the water, right? She don't know.

SIGRIST:

Right, right.

IOZZIA:

That's why I'm over here, because we didn't understand at that time.

SIGRIST:

You just sort of went blindly into it all.

IOZZIA:

I was - I was at the age I didn't understand much. Twelve, what can you understand?

SIGRIST:

Do you remember, of course, you were sick through the whole trip, but do you remember there being other children on the ship?

IOZZIA:

Plenty children, they used to go run around. My sisters used to go running around all over. Not me. Me, I know nothing inside the ship. Till I stop, I sleep over here, I sleep good.

SIGRIST:

Do you know how long the ship took before you got here?

IOZZIA:

Seventeen days.

SIGRIST:

Seventeen days.

IOZZIA:

At night, four o'clock at night we were got, four o'clock in the, in the afternoon.

SIGRIST:

And you arrived on June . . .

IOZZIA:

June 28th, June 26th we got over here.

SIGRIST:

June 26, 1916 was when you arrived.

IOZZIA:

'16. How many days from, uh . . .

SIGRIST:

Oh, I don't know. We can figure it out right after.

IOZZIA:

Yeah. I meant to say, I know seventeen day we stay there.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember seeing the Statue of Liberty when you . . .

IOZZIA:

No. I don- remem-- even my kids ask me all the time.

SIGRIST:

Were you still sick downstairs?

IOZZIA:

I stay, till the, till the boat stop, then when the boat stop, I wake up.

SIGRIST:

Well, now, do you remember coming to Ellis Island from the ship? How did you get here from the ship?

IOZZIA:

Well, to me, I got confused, when I came over here the last time . . .

SIGRIST:

To visit the museum.

IOZZIA:

To me, to me I thought I come out from the ship to the -- over here. But I don't know. To me it was a different, the way, uh, uh, I can't figure out the way it was when I came.

SIGRIST:

I see.

IOZZIA:

Which way I came, I don't know. This way, or this way straight, I don't know.

SIGRIST:

What do you remember about being at Ellis Island? What sticks out in your mind about . . .

IOZZIA:

I was in the second floor. I was in the second floor, where was I, watchin' the boat that come, the boat that come.

SIGRIST:

You could see the boats in the harbor.

IOZZIA:

Yeah. Oh, yeah. And, uh, they used to wave, we used to wave, too. My mother, she wait for her brother, maybe my brother gonna come, come too. But they come, the sister come. But when we see it was not sister -- no brother, nobody, the people used to wait, that's all. We didn't know where we stayed for two days. This was on a -- sit on a boat.

SIGRIST:

Right.

IOZZIA:

See? Everybody simpl-- they used to come, a lot of people, and they used to wave to us, and we used to wave, too. So I don't know.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember being in the Great Hall here at Ellis Island?

IOZZIA:

It was a big, big room. Which room it is over here, I don't know. I can't figure out which one it is. And they were on a line, there was a line, you know. All the way over there, it was all Indian. Me, I was looking more on the top than on the bottom. I see all those Indian picture. I never seen that thing any more over here. No. But the room was very, very big. And at the end over there, they were - the -- the people these days ask you a question. But there was, uh, like a gate over here. Like you and me over here, I was standing up over here with my mother. When we reach over here, all of a sudden they close the gate. So I don't know. We turn around. The one in front of us, the one, after we stay here, for while, we don't know. My mother cried again. "Now we gonna go back, and we gonna go back," and she says she has to go back. But then, because we can't ask about somebody else, they don't understand it either. They don't know. And then on a Monday, my mother's sister came with her husband, you know, and somebody talking English. That's how we come out.

SIGRIST:

Was your mother really frightened of the possibility of being sent back?

IOZZIA:

Yes, she was scared, she was scared. Because we didn't understand. See, we didn't understand.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember, um, having any kind of physical examinations?

IOZZIA:

They examined the eye. And, uh, now I see the picture, now I remember, I think they bring us in a room, if it's clean, like. You know, things like this. Now I, I forgot about that. But now I see the picture come up on me again.

SIGRIST:

What about in Naples? Did you have to go through any kind of examinations in Naples?

IOZZIA:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

So that's a problem in Italy, isn't it? They had some checking . . .

IOZZIA:

But the people, they will come back, they should have come back from Naple, not from over here. I don't know why they send them over here then at that time, if it's a -- you got something wrong in you eyes or sickness or something.

SIGRIST:

I think they wanted to check them in both places, you know, just to . . .

IOZZIA:

Yeah. But it's bad to come, go back from over here, you know.

SIGRIST:

Did you see anything when you were here at Ellis Island that you had never seen before?

IOZZIA:

I never seen anything like over here, nothing. I didn't see anything like this. The way I said, I come from the town, I not even go from here to here. My mother says, "Don't go the other street," I stay on this street. So . . .

SIGRIST:

So everything is new to you.

IOZZIA:

New for me, everything is new.

SIGRIST:

What about food? Did they feed you here at Ellis Island that you remember?

IOZZIA:

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

What do you remember about that?

IOZZIA:

I know, I have soup all the time. Pastina, the small pastina with the soup. They used to come with the wide pail. For me, not for my mother or for my sister, for me. I used to give, uh, a cup, or whatever it is. They used to give me a little pastina. That's all I eat for seventeen days. That's what I eat.

SIGRIST:

And, um, uh, you said you were, so you were here for two days, you said?

IOZZIA:

Two nights.

SIGRIST:

Two nights you sleep here. And then your mother's sister came and got you. Your mother's . . .

IOZZIA:

My mother, my mother' sister.

SIGRIST:

Came and claimed you.

IOZZIA:

Yeah, my aunt, my aunt, yeah. They claim. They had to claim us, you know.

SIGRIST:

And, uh,w hen you slept here, you slept in a big room also?

IOZZIA:

Big room over here, in a bed bunk, too.

SIGRIST:

On the bunk beds, yeah.

IOZZIA:

Do you know what I did? I bent down on a pole over here. When I went bent down, I bang this. ( she laughs ) I bang my eye over here. "Oh", I says, "Now for sure we're going to back Sicilia." Ah.

SIGRIST:

Your mother . . . ( he laughs )

IOZZIA:

My mother, what she went through, oh! My mother, when she came over here she was nice and chubby. She come so skinny, not because she didn't eat, because she was worried.

SIGRIST:

Yeah. When you aunt came and got you, where did she take you?

IOZZIA:

To Paterson, at her house.

SIGRIST:

And Paterson is where she lived.

IOZZIA:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

What did you do your first night in Paterson?

IOZZIA:

Oh, to meet lot of people was there. We, we got at Paterson at just five o'clock, and the whistle blow. We, uh, oh, that's all the people come out from the shop. I don't know where they come out. For what? They used to blow the whistle, was five o'clock. So just the day when we come to Paterson, five o'clock. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

Did your aunt have a dinner for you?

IOZZIA:

Yeah, sure.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember that dinner?

IOZZIA:

I remember a big watermelon like this. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

Had you ever seen a watermelon?

IOZZIA:

No, no, we had it, but not big like this. Smaller, round. Oh, we had it. But when I see this, oh, my God, look how big it is here, a big watermelon. That impress me. That impress me.

SIGRIST:

And, uh, where did you, you slept at your aunt's house?

IOZZIA:

My aunt. We stay there. We stay there.

SIGRIST:

Yeah. And then did your mother get a job?

IOZZIA:

Oh, I went to work, the 26th, five o'clock we got out at Paterson, the people from the town, they come and visit us. They says, "Oh, you're going to come with us." The next day they wanted me to go. So my aunt says, "Are you crazy?" I says, "I want to go, I want to go." "What do you mean, you want to go?" "I want to go." I said, "One day home, one day home." The 26th, the 26th, I went to work in the silk factory. I was only twelve years old.

SIGRIST:

In a silk factory.

IOZZIA:

In a silk. Paterson Silk.

SIGRIST:

Big silk mills.

IOZZIA:

Oh, everybody eat over there, because everybody work when the silk was there. No more silk over there. Now, they got trouble.

SIGRIST:

Now, was there a big Italian population in Paterson at that time?

IOZZIA:

We used to. We used to live near was Italian, like today where the Puerto Ricans live, we all go over there.

SIGRIST:

And most of those people worked in mills like this.

IOZZIA:

Everybody work in the mill.

SIGRIST:

Well, I'd love it if you could explain to me exactly what you did in the silk factory. What was your job that you . . .

IOZZIA:

My job was everything over there they got. A winder, a spinner, the doubler.

SIGRIST:

What's a winder? Explain that to me.

IOZZIA:

A winder, the skein, the skein.

SIGRIST:

A skein of silk thread.

IOZZIA:

They used to put them like this, you know, inside the, this is the, the shape. They used to put the skein in there. And then the -- by electric they used to run it, because they used to run a big, big machine, long. We used to, we used to work hard. A little girl, we used to work hard. But I was big girl.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember what you got paid?

IOZZIA:

Seven dollars a week. Most of my job was seven dollars a week. Then I work nine months in there, my mother work in another - in another shop. Over there, I know everything, I do everything. Nine dollars a week. Two dollars more.

SIGRIST:

Was doing that kind of work dangerous?

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

Were the factories dangerous inside?

IOZZIA:

It wasn't danger -- was, no, the way you ask that question. I used to have pigtails when I come from the other side, all right?

SIGRIST:

Long hair.

IOZZIA:

Long hair. I had that long hair, that's the way they grow it. Not long, but I had long hair. I had pigtail. So when I work on the machine, I had to bend down. When I bend down, the hair go, so the boss says, "No, no, no, not like this." The first day I went over there. So I had to make a bun. When I make the bun in the back, I was an old lady for me. ( she laughs )

SIGRIST:

That's a good story. But, of course, you did that because your hair would have gotten caught in the machinery, and . . .

IOZZIA:

Yeah. From there on, I had my hair up. So to me, thirteen years old, I was a old lady - to me --.

SIGRIST:

Yeah, when you came to this country you had to be an adult instantly. Do you remember what your hours were in the silk factory?

IOZZIA:

Eleven hours a day, right through. From seven to six.

SIGRIST:

Did you have a break for lunch?

IOZZIA:

Yes. But we could -- we could eat with the machine running, we could eat. But then we didn't want to - where to go -- hurry up and do, no. Put the machine again, or whatever. Because the things used to break, you know, they used to say, "There, you got to fix now." So one, two, three, if we stayed there one hour, you can't stay one hour, sit down, just a little bit to eat lunch, and then, uh, but we, we used to eat lunch, yeah.

SIGRIST:

It's hard work, though, isn't it?

IOZZIA:

Well, to me it was-- to me it wasn't bad. It wasn't, at the beginning it wasn't bad. We don't know. But then, and then, uh, the war—the worst thing was there, the war. No men.

SIGRIST:

That's right. World War One is still going on.

IOZZIA:

Instead of running one machine, we should run two machine. You understand what I'm talking about? I used to take two - two double- pay for two. Well, it was good, I was young, I could do it. Then I was, when I was in there 1916, 1918, I was twelve, fifteen.

SIGRIST:

Fifteen, sixteen.

IOZZIA:

Fifteen. Well, fifteen I was, I could do everything at fifteen.

SIGRIST:

So at this time a lot of women are working in the mills, because all the men are gone.

IOZZIA:

All women. No men. 1918, '17, no men. The job that the man should do, the women used to do.

SIGRIST:

Oh, this is all very interesting information. Oh, thank you. Um, tell me a little bit now, this couldn't be more different for your mother. I mean, this is just a whole different world.

IOZZIA:

For me it wasn't bad. For my mother wasn't bad.

SIGRIST:

Let's talk about your mother for a little while. And tell me how she adjusted, and what was hard for her.

IOZZIA:

No, she adjusted right away over here. Especially for me. She did, she did it for us, for me and my sister. But my sis-- my sister, she working before she died, too. She was sixteen when she die. So my mother, she was happy, because we were all together. Oh, she was happy. She like over here.

SIGRIST:

Well, and her life couldn't be any harder than it was already in Sicily.

IOZZIA:

Over here, she says to me, this I make a, the queen over here. I'm like a queen over here. That's how she feels. Because she used to go home at six o'clock at night. From seven o'clock in the morning to six o'clock at night, me and my mother together. She had me together, we work together then with my mother. See? She was happy. Sure, she was real happy.

SIGRIST:

Did your mother ever learn English?

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

Tell me how you learned English?

IOZZIA:

In the shop, in the factory. But if you Italian, I'm Italian, I know you Italian, one word can't come off of my mouth, because you'll laugh the way I say the words. You don't laugh when I say the words now. You laugh, years ago they used to laugh with the Italian people. Even with my sister -- we used to fight, me and her. Because . . .

SIGRIST:

So that made you not want to say anything in English, if you thought someone was going to laugh at you.

IOZZIA:

They laugh. But, if I -- if I know you don't know Italian, I used to talk to you in English. That's how it would be all right.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember what your first word was? What was the first word or phrase that sticks out in your mind, that's one of the first things you learned?

IOZZIA:

Well, we learn goodbye, like the thing is like this, you know. Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Did you always speak Italian at home?

IOZZIA:

Home. Well, my kids, I even speak Italian at home with my kids. But one took, the old one, but the next one, she won't talk to me. She understand, but she talking English with me. But the older one, she talk Italian, because my mother raise her. See, now, see, my mother raise my daughter. And my mother, she died '56.

SIGRIST:

So she was quite young. You know, that reminds me. Let's talk about your sister's death. She died when she was sixteen.

IOZZIA:

Sixteen years old.

SIGRIST:

What year was that?

IOZZIA:

19, 1924 she died.

SIGRIST:

And what did she die of?

IOZZIA:

Pneumonia.

SIGRIST:

And can you, what do you remember about, about her death, and that experience?

IOZZIA:

Oh, she was sick for nine days. That's all, nine days she died. Nine days she died. What can I say?

SIGRIST:

What, was that common for people to die at that time of pneumonia.

IOZZIA:

Years ago, that time, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Um, tell me about how your mother reacted to all this, because now she's in America, she's got her kids with her, and everything's going great. How did your mother react?

IOZZIA:

Oh, she, to the end she die, she carry on to -- till she die. She die eight years after my mother died. My mother, she died 1932.

SIGRIST:

So your mother has just had this . . .

IOZZIA:

She didn't have a good life at all.

SIGRIST:

So many people she loved die on her.

IOZZIA:

Yes, yes, yes, yes. She had a, I've been having a good life over here, a good husband. Got wonderful kids. My two daughter, they, I mean, that could say what's said. They're after me. Now I live, I live with the, no, I don't live with, I live by myself, but downstairs floor, and my se—my daughter lives second floor.

SIGRIST:

Um, let's talk about your family. What was your husband's name?

IOZZIA:

Take the same Bartolo Iozzia, Bartolo.

SIGRIST:

Bartolo Iozzia.

IOZZIA:

They - they got the same grandfather, because he was a relative.

SIGRIST:

I see. And what year did you marry him?

IOZZIA:

What year?

SIGRIST:

When did you get married?

IOZZIA:

1920.

SIGRIST:

You were married in 1920.

IOZZIA:

I was sixteen.

SIGRIST:

You were young. You were a young bride.

IOZZIA:

Because when I came from the other side, I don't - I don't know my husband, because he came before me, 1910. I don't know. I thought it was a strange - strange. And I say to my mother, "Ma, how I gonna call him? Uncle?" "No, he is young." He was older than me, I mean, but he was a young fellow when I came from the other side. So he don't know me, he - he knew me - he'd have to be, ten years old, 1910. How old I was?

SIGRIST:

Seven.

IOZZIA:

Seven years old.

SIGRIST:

Six or seven.

IOZZIA:

I don't remember him. I don't remember. Seven years old. You don't think of anything, like.

SIGRIST:

Was it already arranged that you would marry him at some point?

IOZZIA:

No, no.

SIGRIST:

No. So . . .

IOZZIA:

No, no, no, no.

SIGRIST:

So you had a courtship then, and it wasn't an arranged . . .

IOZZIA:

No.

SIGRIST:

Okay. Um, and you got married in Paterson, I assume.

IOZZIA:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

And, uh, can you name for us on tape your children? What are their names?

IOZZIA:

In English or Italian?

SIGRIST:

Both. Do Italian, and then do English.

IOZZIA:

One is name Luggia, Lucy, Luggia.

SIGRIST:

Lucy.

IOZZIA:

And the other one is Giovanina, Jenny. ( they laugh ) But we don't call her Giovanina, we call her Jenny. Luggia, I call her Luggici, I call her Luggi. Yeah.

SIGRIST:

And, uh, so you had two daughters.

IOZZIA:

Two daughters.

SIGRIST:

Two daughters. Um, tell me, um, you said that you went back to Sicily.

IOZZIA:

Yes, two time.

SIGRIST:

Tell me about the first time you went back, and what it felt like to go back there.

IOZZIA:

I went - me and my husband. To me it was different. But still, the little town. Sili-- was a little town. We -- I went, me and my husband. 19, uh, wait a minute now. When I went with Papa? See, I got a lot of things I remember.

SIGRIST:

You're good with dates, unusually so. ( he laughs )

IOZZIA:

I'm pretty good, I know. See, I would remember when I went with my husband. Silvana she was nine years old. No . . .

SIGRIST:

1954, '34, '44? ( he laughs ) Um, one, two, three, four, five? '30? '31? '65? '50? '58?

IOZZIA:

I think '59, '59.

SIGRIST:

'59.

IOZZIA:

I can see it all the time.

SIGRIST:

Math is not my forte. ( he laughs )

IOZZIA:

'59, I know it.

SIGRIST:

1959 you went back to Sicily.

IOZZIA:

I say, even, yesterday. I went with my husband. Yeah. '59.

SIGRIST:

And did you go back to the town you came from?

IOZZIA:

Oh, over there . . .

SIGRIST:

What did you think when you saw this? You'd been away all those years?

IOZZIA:

My house - my house - I pa-- when me and my husband walk up my street, I say, "Let me see if I remember my house." We pass, we pass the house. It was the same house. So somebody from the window, they call me, "Nina, nina." I turn around, the people that live in my house, they call me. You know, they -- somebody from the town, they live over there. I remember good everything about, I pass my house. That's what I. They was (?) to me.

SIGRIST:

When you were there, did you feel some kind of a connection to that town, or did you feel like you'd almost never been there?

IOZZIA:

A lot of crazy, I had a lot of cousin over there.

SIGRIST:

Oh, so you had family still living there.

IOZZIA:

Oh, not my own, my own, my mother and my father, no. My mother and my father were over here. That's all it was. My grandmother was dead. My cousin, I had a cousin. A lot of cousin, I had.

SIGRIST:

You visited them when you were, went over there.

IOZZIA:

Yeah, oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Well, let me ask you. This has been a wonderful interview.

IOZZIA:

That's a big, a long one!

SIGRIST:

It has been a long one. Let me ask you, um, are you happy that your mother made that decision to come to this country?

IOZZIA:

Yes, siree. A hundred . . .

SIGRIST:

How do you think your life would have been different if you'd had to stay in Sicily?

IOZZIA:

I don't know.

SIGRIST:

If your father had never died and you, how would your life have been different?

IOZZIA:

I don't know. My mother sent me to school, sew school, to be a dressmake. That's all. All dressmaker, or crochet, that's all. Or to the farm. My mother, she -- she was thinking, I can't send my kid to the farm. No, no, no, no. That's it. That's her.

SIGRIST:

So that's what would have been available to a young lady at that time, learning handiwork . . .

IOZZIA:

Or sew.

SIGRIST:

O doing farm work.

IOZZIA:

All the one, uh, the mothers used to send them to school to teach them to sew. About twelve years old, you don't got no money to sew what?

SIGRIST:

Yeah, right. Well, Mrs. Iozzia, I want to thank you very much.

IOZZIA:

This, I don't know. I say -- I say all my life. You know that?

SIGRIST:

We went through the whole life. Yeah, we went through the whole life.

IOZZIA:

My kids didn't even - I don't know -- .

SIGRIST:

Well, anyway, this is Paul Sigrist signing off with Antonina Iozzia on Wednesday, June 8, 1994, at the Ellis Island Immigration Museum. Thank you very much.

IOZZIA:

Okay. EI-477/IOZZIA 50